Blank Slate
by EmmettAnnWithAnE
Summary: Harry Potter disappears off the street. His friends and family are baffled with no sign of a struggle, and no ransom. The same day a boy falls from the sky in New York city at the feet of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. He has no memory of who he is, or where he came from. While the Weasley's try their hardest to get Harry back the Avengers try and cope with an amnesiac boy-who-lived


Since the day that the wizarding world had pulled itself from the site of the final battle it seemed as though the entire population was having a difficult time finding words that didn't seem paltry or lacking in some way; people gathered in a silence broken only by tears that could not be held back with their families, and looked to what was left of their government. The Ministry limped out of the ashes of the old regime, still reeling and scrambling to fill the gaps left by those officials who had sided with the Death Eaters during the war. The most notable of these gaps was the Minister himself, who had been placed in his position under the Imperious curse and later killed during the battle. Blood stained and battered, Kingsley Shacklebolt took the reins of their nation in hand, and soothed the survivors with promises and sweet nothings; telling them to rest well for now, knowing that they had won the war, but that the real work would begin in the morning. They were weary and let the newly appointed temporary Minister for Magic lull them to sleep with his visions of a brighter future.

It wasn't as simple as any of them wanted it to be. With the morning came the reminders that the battle had changed their lives in more ways than just removing the leader of everything they feared. Voldemort may have been dead, but so were so many of their loved ones. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, cousins, teachers, students, friends, people you passed on the way to class or work but never knew their names. Each of them had a body to bury, and someone to blame for their grief. With the funerals being taken care of the trials were next. Tears of triumph and rage mingled in the crowds as each of the captured Death Eaters were sentenced, whether it was the members of the Snatchers gangs being put away for kidnapping and human trafficking, or the high profile cases like the Malfoys that were watched by the public like mad dogs itching to be let off their leashes for a chance to snap at the accused's heals. Every new name that was captured and set a trial date brought a whirl wind of emotion trauma to entire families, as they mourned those they'd lost at the hands of those being hauled up in chains before the Wizengamot. Some found closure in watching the sentencing, some felt hollow and cheated; most just faced the realization that nothing would bring back the ones they loved with still more tears and a half-hearted resolve to pick up their lives and move on. Molly Weasley was planted firmly in the latter category.

The loss of her son, Fred, hit Molly the same way it hit any other mother, with soul crushing intensity. She didn't know how long she simply sat and cried, nothing around her registered. Her husband Arthur came and went, pleading with her to eat, to lie down, anything; but she couldn't bring herself to answer him. That is, until she found her gaze falling upon George, the twin of her fallen son. Fred's near perfect copy, they did everything in tandem, mirror images of each other. George was sitting at the opposite end of a table Molly didn't remember sitting down at herself. He had a plate of food set in front of him that look completely untouched, and Charlie sat across from George apparently trying to coax his younger brother into eating. It was Georges eyes that made her get up; those unseeing glass orbs that had replaced her boys mischievous twinkling eyes, she couldn't stand the look of them. So, Molly stood and walked around the table; she sat back down and pulled her son into her arms. She tucked his head under her chin, and gave his head a pat.

"Chin up now, Georgie." She whispered into his hair. "Fred would come back and haunt you if he ever saw that sour look on your face."

It took months, they staggered and stumbled as a group but eventually they were all able to get up in the morning. They could face the world and know that they looked like they were coping well. It might not have always been the truth, but the bad days didn't completely cripple them and they could smile with the good ones. Molly insisted that they gather every Sunday for a brunch, just so she could see each of her children, and those who had become family, gathered around her table. It was normal, familiar, and reassured her that no matter how awful the rest of the world was her home was still here.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione never spoke of what they'd been doing god knows where, not with anyone other than themselves at any rate. They vowed to keep the Deathly Hallows a secret, and the less anyone knew about the Horcruxes the better in Harry's opinion. With the hullabaloo over the trials and Ministry reforms no one looked twice at the Chosen One and his friends past asking them for appearances, and offering whatever they'd thought up as a suitably grand reward for offing the Dark Lord. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was still acting as temporary Minister of Magic did keep most of the press at bay and far away from him and the Weasley family; but he was having a tougher time sorting out some very anti-werewolf sentiments that had been cropping up.

Fenrir Greyback, who had escaped the Battle of Hogwarts, had also managed to evaded Ministry capture and was wreaking his own brand of havoc. The werewolf population was increasing at an alarming rate, and people were scared. Kingsley was reluctant to pass the sorts of laws that some members of the Wizengamot were purposing and so far he and a few supporters were managing to shoot down the more drastic ones, such as registration by pointing out that it wouldn't do them any good in catching Greyback. After all, it wasn't like he was just going to present himself to be tagged like cattle. So, people were being placated with an increase in Aurors looking for Greyback and any werewolves who associated with him. The longer the man hunt went on the more uneasy people got.

One evening Andromeda Tonks turned up at the Burrow, sleeping grandson in her arms, out of breath and dishevelled with Teddy's nappy bag falling off her shoulder. A small mob of people had cornered her in Diagon Ally and demanded to know if Teddy was a werewolf like his father. She'd tried to get around them, but when she refused to answer someone had gotten the idea to just test the boy and pulled out a silver dagger. She'd managed to apparate away before they got a hold of Teddy, but both he and his grandmother were shaken. After this incident, Harry become actively involved in speaking for werewolf rights. He'd be damned if he was going to let his own godson be hassled like that for a condition his father had had. He gained support very quickly, who was going to argue with the peoples hero? But the tensions remained.

Molly insisted that Andromeda and Teddy come and stay at the Burrow, just for a few days. Of course a few days turned into a few weeks and soon the two were a permanent fixture in Ottery St. Catchpole.

"I'm not sure how she did it." Andromeda remarked to Harry one day, as they sat in the garden with Teddy. "Every time I meant to go home Molly asked if I'd help with something and now I'm not sure I have anything left at my home."

"Yeah," Harry laughed, waving a colourful bear around for Teddy to try and catch. "She's good at that. I was only supposed to stay for dinner one night, but Mrs. Weasley said my socks all needed mending."

"I suppose you wouldn't get too far without those."

"Laugh all you want, at least I've got my dignity." Harry insisted as Andromeda shook her head at him.

"Do you?"

"Compared to Hermione I do. Mrs. Weasley caught her and Ron snogging and went off on a rant on how they were too young to be giving her grandchildren already. She said they needed supervision, and Hermione was too embarrassed to tell her no."

The Burrow was a full house these days. Harry, and Ron were back to sharing Ron's childhood bedroom. Ginny and Hermione were bunking again, and George and Percy were doing the same in Georges room. Andromeda was staying in Percy's old room, which Percy had so generously donated, and Teddy had been installed in Bill's old room. Life had been uncharacteristically peaceful of late. Besides the occasional reporter, or anti-werewolf lobbyist stopping them in the streets when they were with Harry or Teddy respectively, they all went about their lives as quietly as possible. That quiet was never meant to last, they all knew that, but that doesn't never makes it less of a shock when it does.

Molly guided her frying pan around the kitchen, stopping just over the head of each of her children and the assorted house guests and giving her wand another little flick so the spatula dished out a good sized portion. Each time eggs and bacon smacked down onto a plate she got a grunt of thanks, a nod of the head; Hermione even murmured a 'thank you'. Molly gave the bushy haired girl a smile and an extra piece of bacon.

"Eat up Hermione dear." Molly told the girl affectionately. "I don't like the look of how thin you've gotten."

Hermione just smiled, shaking her head at Molly, and dipped her bacon in some runny yoke smeared across her plate.

"Load Harry's plate up too while you're at it, Mum." Ron said around a mouth full of toast. "He went and lost half his bloody body weight."

Harry scowled at Ron from across the table, where he sat holding his young godson Teddy while Andromeda fed the toddler. "I did not."

"You did too!" Ron retorted after a painful looking swallow. "Lift your shirt up a bit, so mum can count your ribs."

"Oh, Harry!" Molly exclaimed, immediately directing an extra-large helping onto his plate. "I'm sorry, dear! Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's fine really, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said hastily, eyes getting wider as the pile on his plate grew to unreasonable proportions. "Ron's exaggerating, really."

"I'm not!" Ron said, putting his fork down as though too offended to continue eating. "Not that anybody can even tell with that bloody sail you wear all the time. 'Mione," Ron called across the table, waving in her direction. "Tell him to eat his bacon and shut it!"

"Eat your bacon." Hermione muttered around her own fork, never looking up from the book.

"And shut it!" Ron insisted.

"And shut it, Ronald." Hermione turned the page and continued on.

Harry snickered, tickling Teddy and hiding a grin into the boys shoulder. "You heard the lady, Ron."

"That's quite enough out of you three." Molly chided, sliding one last bit of eggs onto Harry's plate. "Honestly, how you lot manage to get anything done is beyond me."

"That's actually a fair question," Andromeda said, attempting to spoon another mouthful of mush into her grandson's reluctant maw. "The only thing I've seen you three do is bicker, bicker, bicker. How on earth did you manage to keep yourselves hidden for so long?"

"More like how deaf were the Death Eaters that they didn't hear you harping at each other?" Charlie chuckled, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.

"Oi, that's not funny." Ron snapped, a frown curling around his face.

"It didn't, I mean that didn't actually happen . . . did it?" Charlie asked, his grin slipping from his face faster and faster as his brother continued to glower.

"Just the once." Harry mumbled when neither Ron nor Hermione said anything. "Right before we landed at your place, Bill."

Bill winced, squeezing Fleur's hand under the table as he felt her do the same. "Is that what happened? You lot never did talk about it."

"They just showed up on your doorstep all torn up and never said a word?" George asked incredulously.

"Well, to be fair Hermione was unconscious for the first little bit, and _that_ one," Bill said, jerking his head in Harry's direction. "Was about three quarters out of his tree. It was really just Ronnie who was stone walling me for information."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded, frowning.

"I don't mean anything by it Har," Bill said, waving him down with one hand. "But honestly, I asked you if you were alright and you asked me for a shovel. Not exactly the best sign of mental stability."

"I needed to dig Dobby's grave!" Harry snapped. "What's crazy about that?"

"Just leave it Harry," Hermione said, reaching across the table to pat his hand. "Nobody thinks you're crazy."

"Anymore." Ron supplied around yet another mouthful.

"Anymore?" Harry echoed. Something whispered in the back of his mind to just let it drop, that he was happier not knowing, but when had he ever done that?

Hermione sent Ron an exasperated glare, sucking on her teeth in a way that let him know he was going to get it later. "We never believed you were crazy, Harry." She said, switching her softening gaze to over to her friend. "It was more like you were losing sight of our goals."

"By losing sight of the goals, you mean . . .?" George prompted, waving his fork in a slow circle.

"Look, it really doesn't matter anymore." Hermione sighed, closing her book. "Harry just had a separate set of theories that seemed a tad. . . implausible."

"Hey, I was _right_ about that!"

"Bully for you." Ron said, stabbing his fork through a hash brown. "I'll make a note, shall I? When Harry starts acting _mental_, he's probably on to something."

"Can we back up a bit," Ginny said loudly as Harry opened his mouth angrily "How do Harry's barmy theories tie in with you lot getting caught exactly?"

Before Harry could do more than decide whether or not to be ashamed over having gotten them caught in the first place, or alarmed at having to explain that while skirting around the subject of the Deathly Hallows; Hermione had taken things to hand.

"The entire time we were out there Harry was absolutely convinced that You-Know-Who had hidden what we were looking for at Hogwarts." She said, waving her hand with an air of long suffering exasperation. "It seemed so ridiculous, and Ron and I told him as much."

"Only I was sure, so I wouldn't let it go." Harry said, picking up the slightly edited thread. "One night the argument got a bit out of hand, and I may have, er, shouted out a certain taboo name that called the Snatchers down on us."

Harry's blush was back full force, as the people around him threw him looks ranging from exasperation to dark remembrance of the way things had been.

"See mum, told you all those stories were shite." George said, a cheery smile on his face. "Recruiting the Merpeople, my arse."

"What?" Ron asked, brow scrunched.

"It was a rumour that went around awhile back." Ginny said. "Some idiot came up with the idea that you," She looked pointedly at Harry, "were trying to recruit merpeople to help us win the war."

"The Merpeople. The ones who can't leave the water?" Harry asked with a chuckle. "What were we going to do, trip Voldemort into the lake?"

"Don't ask me," Ginny said, laughing with him. "It wasn't my theory. It wasn't even one of the more popular one's going around."

"I never heard that one." Ron said, shaking his head. "Not as stupid as the one about the Gnomes."

"I' m almost afraid to ask about that one." Harry muttered as everyone at the table chuckled, except for Hermione, who was looking as dubious as Harry.

"You can't blame people for speculating," Percy said from the end of the table. "You did drop off the map rather suddenly, what were people supposed to think?"

"That we were actually trying to help, not doing whatever with the gnomes." Harry dipped a bit of toast in his egg yolk and biting the end off.

"Trust me, the gnome thing wasn't going to help anybody. . . especially not the gnomes." Ginny gave a little shudder.

Charlie leaned in across the table on his elbows, pulling Harry's attention away from Ginny and her theatrics. "So, if you weren't doing weird things with the gnomes,"

"I promise you we weren't." Harry said fervently.

"Right, so what _were_ you doing?"

"Looking for a way to kill Voldemort."

A collective flinch rolled through the gathered crowed like a wave at Harry's statement, and Hermione shot him a disapproving look.

"I think they'd worked that out for themselves, Harry." She said.

"Well, it's the truth."

"Can we please just eat without any more war talk?" Molly snapped, dropping her frying pan onto the stove with a clash. "I think we've all talked it to death, honestly."

"If that's what you want mum." George said, picking his fork back up.

"Thank you Georgie."

"We'll just get it out of them later."

Molly glared at George over her shoulder

"It's just enough to know that those silly rumours weren't true; that you weren't gallivanting around the countryside riding dragons and blowing up buildings."

"Well, we might've done that." Harry said with a chuckle, grinning at Ron, only to have it slide off his own face as Ron returned with a look of absolute horror. Ron glanced over at his mother with wide glassy eyes, and Harry followed with his own gaze, trepidation growing as he turned.

Molly stood at the stove, hands frozen part way through wiping them on a towel. She was looking directly at Harry, and a hysterical little whisper in the back of his mind said that if her eyes got any wider they'd pop straight out of her head. "Sorry, dear, I don't think I heard you. . . what was that?"

Harry found his throat suddenly dry, and when he opened his mouth not a word came out. He cleared his throat and did his best to back track. "I said 'might'."

Ron looked like he was torn between laughter and the desire to bail out the nearest window, but kept a firm hold on his Gryffindor bravery and stuck with his friend.

"It really wasn't as bad as all that, Mum." Ron insisted, an attempt at a reassuring grin pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, don't even try Ron." Bill said with a sad shake of his head, "I've seen the hole through the middle of Gringotts' floor. You can't pass that off as some jaunt into town."

"I'm not saying it was!" Ron shot back at his brother, "But it could have been a lot worse than it was, right Harry?"

"Yeah, could have gotten locked in the vault with that mountain of burning gold." Harry said, the three of them giving a little shudder remembering being nearly buried alive in the various treasures of the Lestrange vault as it burned their flesh.

None of this appeared to comfort Molly as her chest rose and fell in great heaves and her eyes began to bulge out. Harry made a silent vow to never speak again, and shot Hermione a pleading look.

"Mrs. Weasley, I assure you we planned the whole thing out very thoroughly before hand." A vein began to pulse on Molly's forehead and Hermione hurried on, "It really was a necessary risk."

"Yeah, if we hadn't gone then we'd never have, ugh, gotten the thing." Ron chimed in as Hermione floundered, though he nearly choked on his own tongue as his two friends shot him scandalized looks.

"Found what?" Ginny demanded, making a fist around her fork when the three clamped their lips shut. "C'mon, the war's over! Does your secret club really matter anymore?"

"Yes." Harry said at the same Ron and Hermione both said, "Not really."

"Harry," Hermione began, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. Harry snatched it away before she could get a proper grip.

"No." The last dregs of comfortable atmosphere evaporated as Harry scowled at his two best friends. "That's how this whole mess got started; the more people who know the more chance for someone to abuse it!"

"Mate, nobody here is going to turn into a Dark Lord just because the last one kicked it." Ron insisted.

"I'm not saying they will." Harry said through gritted teeth, hyper aware of the rest of the table watching them, "but if they don't know then they can't tell anyone."

"You're sounding more like – "

"Well, he obviously had reasons for it, didn't he?" Harry snarled. In his lap Teddy gave a frightened little hiccup, clutching at his godfathers arms. Harry looked down at the child in mild surprise that bled into guilt an instant later.

"I'm sorry, mate." He mumbled into Teddy's hair, giving him a little squeeze.

"I think that's quite enough." Andromeda said curtly. She reached out for her grandson and Harry handed him over meekly. "There's no need to be discussing such morbid topics in front of Teddy to begin with."

"Exactly," Molly said, standing and dusting off her hands. "The war's over, and you're doing no one any good forcing this out at the table of all places!"

The room at large bowed chastised heads under Molly's glare, but Harry could see that the curiosity had not gone out of the Weasley children. Ginny especially watched Harry with narrowed eyes. He was going to have an awful time deflecting their attentions.

They ate the rest of their meal in near silence, only breaking it to request salt or elbow space. When they were finished Molly took charge and began to dish out the traditional Sunday afternoon chores. Shooing her children and husband around, and making sure they all started before turning to her permanent house guests.

"Hermione, would you see what you can do about the windows in the sitting room – someone seems to have charmed them all green. Andromeda, could you give me a hand with these dishes? I'm sure Fleur wouldn't mind taking Teddy, would you dear?"

Fleur smiled as she accepted the child and followed Hermione out into the sitting room; she stopped briefly to let Harry give one more apologetic kiss to his godsons fluffy head.

"Harry," Molly called from beside the hearth, she had the pot of floo powder in one hand and was peering into it. "Would you mind popping into Diagon for me?"

"Sure," Harry said "what do you need?"

"Well, a bit of floo powder to start with." She sighed, handing him the near empty pot and scrap of parchment. "I've got a list, just wait there now and I'll get it."

"That's alright Molly, I can just – "

"Don't you even think about it young man!" Molly huffed. "It's not your responsibility to be paying our way."

"You don't charge me to stay here," Harry mumbled, resisting the urge to stuff his hands in his pockets and scuff his toe against the ground like he'd jumped out of a movie from the 50's just to be scolded. "The least I can do is pick up the shopping every now and again."

"Hush you!" Molly said as she rummaged around a worn bag she'd pulled from a cupboard near the hearth. She extracted a small red pouch, which she handed him with a good natured scowl shaking a finger at him. "I'll hear none of it, young man. Now, off with you!"

"Yes, ma'am." Harry said, he walked obediently to the hearth and took a pinch of floo powder then placing the pot on the mantle. He fumbled around with his shoelace until he was sure Molly was occupied with Andromeda by the sink, and let the little red pouch drop to the floor. Andromeda caught his eye with a smirk as he stepped into the fire. "Diagon Ally!"

Molly found the pouch an hour and a half later when she went to charm the broom into doing a little sweeping up. She stomped back into the sitting room where her children and guests were sat red faced waving the pouch around. She ranted and raved about clever boys who think they know best, until Bill, in an effort to placate his mother, asked exactly what she'd sent Harry out for. Distraction is key, the Weasley clan knew.

"Oh, just a few things," Molly said. "Some floo powder and a few ingredients I need to make a batch of pepper up."

"Hang on," Ron said from his seat next to Hermione "that's it? How long has he been gone?"

"Nearly two hours now." Andromeda said, setting down her tea cup.

"He only went to Diagon, right? Should it have taken him this long?"

"Don't get yourself all worked up, Ron." George drawled, stretching out in his armchair. "He's probably just found some nice young thing to chat up."

"Classy." Ginny huffed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure he's fine." Percy said. "He's perfectly capable of making a trip to London without getting himself into trouble."

"Perc!" Ron groaned "Why'd you have to say that? You've jinxed it now! He's probably dead in the street somewhere."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration don't you think?"

"Not with Harry it's not."

"Easy now," Arthur said, standing up with a grunt. "Let's not get ourselves worked up. Ron, why don't you and I go have a look in the Leakey Cauldron, ask ol'Tom if he's seen Harry?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Ron nodded, getting up himself.

The two flooed off to the Leakey Cauldron, Tom said he had in fact seen Harry but not for a couple of hours now. They asked around the alley, but no one had seen him. Not in the Apothecary, or the Owl emporium. Not in the Quidditch shop, or Flourish and Blotts. Getting a bit worried now, they returned home, hoping they'd missed him. But Harry hadn't come back. So they organised themselves. Andromeda remained at the Burrow with Teddy incase Harry did wander in, and the others spilt into pairs and canvassed the alley. Four hours later they'd given up on the alley and Knockturn. They'd moved on to muggle London, and sent Percy to ask Haggrid if he'd seen Harry. They checked the Ministry – asking Kingsley and anyone else they knew if they'd seen him, as well as many they didn't know. Soon most of their friends and casual acquaintances were actively searching for their wayward Harry Potter.

"I say we just stop looking." Dean Thomas said as the sun began to set. "I mean, this is the guy who spent how many months under the radar of Death Eaters? If he doesn't want us to find him, we're never going to."

"He isn't hiding!" Hermione insisted, clenching her fists. "He was perfectly fine this morning. He wouldn't just walk off like that!"

"Not like he hasn't done it before."

"Not without a reason he hasn't!"

"Maybe he's got one."

"Stop it!" George snapped, stepping between the two. "Look, maybe he did just wander off, _but_ we're better off acting like something's happened to him. _Harry_ is better off if we act like something's happened to him. How would you feel if we all just trotted off and had dinner, expecting him to show up in the morning when it's really some super fan of his has got him tied up in a basement somewhere?"

Dean paled and nodded.

Not that it did any of them any good, including Harry.

As the days went on with no sign of him their search became more and more organised. They spread out over the rest of the country – Hermione compiled a list of every place Harry had ever been or shown interested in. Ron and Ginny collaborated on a list of anyone who may have had a grudge against their friend . . . it was a fairly extensive list. Some reporters speculated in an article that it may have been Greyback who made the wizarding worlds' saviour disappear. A grudge perhaps? Revenge maybe? It didn't matter that there was no proof; they didn't have any proof to say he hadn't done it, and Kingsley suddenly found it much harder to placate people into less drastic legislation for werewolves. Six months after the disappearance of Harry Potter the anti-werewolf movement really started to get some support and Kingsley was presented with a proposal for a new legislation known as the CaMD Act. The Confinement and Monitoring of Dangerous Creatures. This new legislation would make it mandatory for all werewolves to present themselves at regulated Ministry enclosures for the duration of the full moon each month. At least, that was the part of the act that was brought up and argued over during Wizengamot meetings. The wording and indeed the title itself were vague enough to encompass many other creatures as well, and many restrictions on movement around the country, job placement, and evening housing options for werewolves and other creatures would be severely limited should this be made law. They needed to find Harry, and they needed to find him fast. At this point, and Kingsley was very careful never to mention this within ear shot of the Weasleys or their friends, he'd settle for being able to prove that Greybacks' wolves hadn't killed Harry.

LINE BREAK - - - SIX MONTHES EARLIER IN NEW YORK- - - LINE BREAK

"Come on Bruce, I was just kidding!"

Bruce grit his teeth as Tony jogged to catch up with him. The other man huffed out a breath and patted down his hair; why, Bruce couldn't tell. There was so much product in the man's hair you'd need a waterfall to get any movement from it, much like Tony himself.

Bruce had been trying to lose him for the past two hours without even a hint of success. He hadn't wanted to leave the tower at first – as loud and boisterous as certain people made the towers atmosphere, at least he knew that they could handle themselves if the Hulk took a romp around the den. The rest of the city was only just rebuilding, no need to let another monster lose on them, No matter where he'd gone (kitchen, den, bedroom, bathroom) Tony had been half a step behind, and he had a comment for everything. The gag jar that spat green confetti at him in place of peanut butter had been the last straw.

It'd taken a bit of underhandness, and he owed an apology to Natasha, but Bruce had managed to slip out of the tower without Tony noticing. He'd had ten blessed minutes of nothing but traffic, pigeons, and strangers voices before Tony caught up with him.

"Can we slow it down a bit, Brucie?" Tony groaned "I had a big breakfast, and it's not sitting well."

"Go home, Tony."

"Well, that's rude. You know there are people who would actually pay to spend time with me? Here I am giving it away for free, and all you've got to say is 'go home'?"

"Lots of people pay to spend time with other people," Bruce grumbled "you want to be paid? Go find yourself a nice street corner and stand there awhile, I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends."

Tony stopped like his shoes had been melted to the sidewalk and stumbled as the man walking behind him knocked into his shoulder.

"Watch it!" the stranger snapped, brushing by without sparing Tony more than a glanced. Tony frowned at him for a moment before taking three overly large steps that put him back at Bruce's side.

"If I didn't know any better, Dr. Banner," Tony said, hands in his pockets "I'd say somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. What's the matter?"

"Nothing is wrong, Tony." He glanced around – ditching Tony Stark was looking to be utterly impossible, but Bruce would be damned if he wouldn't give it his best shot. If he'd been dealing with a proper adult this whole situation could have been nothing more than mildly uncomfortable. Hey, you're bothering me and I need to not be around you right now so I don't crush your head like a grape. Then it would be over, he'd have his space and all would be forgotten. As it was, he took a sharp left turn into a fairly abandoned looking play park and hoped Tony wouldn't want to risk his fancy shoes in the questionable looking puddles.

"There's a weird poppy vein thing on the back of your neck that says different."

"What do you want, Tony?"

"In general, or right now?"

"From me. What do you want from me?"

"A hug."

"_Tony._"

"I'm debating between donuts and getting you to take a look at the specs for my new suit." Tony shrugged.

Bruce ground his teeth together once before working his jaw loose again. "I wouldn't be much practical good to you, Tony. I'm not actually an engineer."

"So donuts then?"

"I'm not hungry."

"We can eat them later, and I'll show you those specs anyway. I like a second opinion – well, one that's not completely stupid."

"N – I don't . . . not right now."

"So like, in an hour?"

"I don't think so."

"Tonight?"

"Probably not."

"Tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

"I'll have Jarvis pencil you in for after lunch."

"Stop! Just stop!" Bruce snarled, flinging himself around to face Tony with his fists clenched tight against the spasms he felt pulsing in his veins. "Can you just stop for ten minutes?"

Tony stood silently in front of him, hands shoved casually into his pockets, and one foot in a particularly questionable looking puddle. Bruce looked him up and down as he attempted to regain his equilibrium – there wasn't a hint of in Tony's whole body. His eyes were a fraction too wide to pass off as completely nonchalant, but it wasn't anything Bruce hadn't witnessed happen in response to Pepper corning Tony for some petty miss-deed.

"Yeah," Tony said "yeah, I can do that. Ten minutes, or twenty, an hour."

"Thank you."

"And then donuts."

"_Tony_."

"I'll get the donuts. I'll meet you back at the tower, and I'll make sure birdbrain doesn't eat them all."

Tony waved absently, turning to head back the way they'd come. Just as he turned though, his expression dropped for a second – it dropped into something Bruce had seen on dogs being tied up in the yard the day. _Don't leave me, come play, please stay._

"Tony?" Bruce called, bringing the other man back around to face him. "Save me a jam filled one, will you?"

"I promise you nothing." Tony declared without so much of a hint of a smile.

Bruce rolled his, feeling a bit better already and hoping that he could finally get the distance he needed.

His hopes were shattered by a _crack_ breaking through the general ambiance of the play park like a shot gun, and a boy who fell out of the air between the two Avengers.

The boy fell like he'd been dropped just above their heads and landed on his back between the two men. His head bounced ominously off the gravel path once, and that was it. No sirens, no screams, no explosions. He just landed. And began to bleed over path way.

"Well, that was just plain weird." Tony said, craning his neck to peer at the empty sky above them.

17


End file.
